


You're Wearing It, Aren't You?

by startrekkingaroundasgard



Category: Captain Marvel (2019), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/F, Ficlet, Hoodies, Phone Calls & Telephones, Romantic Fluff, Sharing Clothes, soft lesbians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-19 12:03:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22843999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startrekkingaroundasgard/pseuds/startrekkingaroundasgard
Summary: While out on mission, the reader gets a call from her girlfriend Carol to let her know that she’s back home again.Prompt: “Have you seen my hoodie?”/”No.”/”You’re wearing it, aren’t you?”
Relationships: Carol Danvers/Reader
Kudos: 67





	You're Wearing It, Aren't You?

“There’s no food in the fridge.”

“Of course not,” you replied, excusing yourself from your partner’s company. He didn’t have to ask who was on the other end of the line; you only ever smiled like this for one person. You found a spot on the opposite side of the square, a rickety wooden bench set back from the road, which didn’t hinder your line of sight on the suspect while still giving you a little privacy. 

The suspect, the man you’d been building a case against for months, was selling drugs. Not just any kind of drugs, though, or SHIELD would never have gotten involved. No, these were compounds derived from alien substances and they had some very nasty effects. He was a smarmy sod, knew he was being followed - not by who, though - which meant you couldn’t risk letting him out of your sights for a moment. No matter how much you wanted to talk to your girlfriend, the mission was still the priority. 

You leant back and the bench groaned beneath the pressure. “You’re back, then.”

“Sound a little more excited, dove.”

You could practically hear Carol roll her eyes. It had been three months since your girlfriend had left on her latest interstellar peace tour. Usually your reunions were enthusiastic to say the least when you were there to welcome her back to every room in the house. It was no wonder she sounded so disappointed to find you out on a mission. 

Watching the suspect through the busy traffic, wondering whether the cafe would bring your order here to the other side of the road, you said, “I’ll have you know that I’m busy doing important and secret work.”

“Where are you?”

“What part of secret don’t you understand?”

Carol laughed, the sound music to your ears. Oh, you had missed her. “How long until I can see you again?”

There wasn’t an easy answer to that. It could be a few hours or a few months. You didn’t want to worry her, though, so halfheartedly went down the middle. “Another week or so.”

“Too long.”

There was a rumbling down the line, as if she were digging through a drawer or throwing things around. You could only imagine the mess she was making. The last time she’d gone searching for her t-shirt, you’d come home and found the entire contents of your wardrobe, drawers, kitchen cabinet and “What are you looking for?”

“My hoodie. Have you seen it?”

“No…" 

"You’re wearing it, aren’t you?”

You fingered the edge beneath your jacket, the soft material somehow still retaining her scent after weeks of her being gone. “I like to have you here in the field with me. It makes me feel safe.”

You snapped a quick selfie and sent it to her, almost instantly earning you one back. Carol looked gorgeous as ever, especially wearing nothing but a towel. Her skin had that freshly showered glow, her lips slightly parted in a way that had your heart skipping a beat. Carol sighed happily down the phone. “God, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Glancing up, you saw your partner waving his arms, the poster boy for subtle, pointing across the street towards your target. Reluctantly, you crossed the road and said, “I have to go.”

“Don’t get blood on my hoodie.”

“I won’t.”

“I mean it, dove. Stay safe.”

You smiled down the phone, wishing you could be there with her instead of chasing a rich arsehole through the streets of a foreign town. “See you soon, Carol.”

“Get back to me and I’ll cook you something really nice,” Carol said before hanging up. 

Suddenly up against the image of Carol in the kitchen, burning pasta and breaking your knives on her impossibly strong fingernails, chasing down the alien drug dealer and his armed goons wasn’t the scariest thing you were facing today.


End file.
